Brandon, my roommate, is on vacation in the Himalayas for the next two weeks. Can you believe that shit?
I once joked with Mr. Alterhause--a bona fide world traveler in his own right, who has been to China, all over Europe, Peru, Canada, and is toying with the idea of visiting Egypt this summer--that it would be like a prison sentence for me to travel to almost any other part of the world. Seriously. I mean, if I won some sort of contest where the prize was an all-expense paid vacation to Russia, Japan, and Cuba, I would happily hand it over to a friend or loved one without a second thought.
I'm a creature of habit, and I like my creature comforts. I once went to a wedding just a couple hundred miles north near Sacramento, and I was beside myself at the hotel because I didn't have my Brita pitcher. When I went to Disneyland last October, I kept an eye out for a mini-Whole Foods or Trader Joe's among the many stores.
I am cool with exploring the world from the comfort of A&E or Google Maps, but I reckon my ancestors didn't brave the Atlantic and 'cross the nascent United States in prairie wagons just for me to throw caution to the wind and temporarily defect to some foreign place.
Plus, kitties don't travel well, and I would be worried about leaving my Punkin Rabbit in the care of someone else. So there.
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